The Definition of Love
by A1
Summary: Spoilers for Martin the Warrior. FelldohCelandine, RoseMartin.
1. Renouncement

Disclaimer: The plot and characters belong to Brian Jacques. The poems belong to Andrew Marvel and Alice Maynell. I am not profiting from this story. Starts with double poems, so, um, bear with me.

"The Definition of Love"

My love is of a birth as rare

As 'tis for object strange and high:

It was begotten by despair

Upon Impossibility

For Fate with jealous eyes does see

Two perfect Loves; nor lets them close

Their union would her ruin be,

And her tyrannic power depose

As lines so Love oblique may well

Themselves in every angle greet:

But ours so truly parallel,

Though truly infinite can never meet

Therefore the Love which us doth bind

But Fate so enviously debars,

Is the conjunction of the Mind

And opposition of the Stars

-Andrew Marvel

Chapter One

"Renouncement"

I must not think of thee; and, tired strong,

I shun the thought that lurks in all delight-

The thought of thee-and in the blue heaven's height,

And in the sweet passage of a song.

Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng

This breast, the thought of thee waits hidden yet bright;

It must never, never come in sight;

I must stop short of thee the whole day long

But when sleep comes to close each difficult day,

When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,

And all my bonds and needs must loose apart,

Must doff my will as raiment laid away,-

With the first dream that comes with the first sleep

I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart

-Alice Meynell

Felldoh woke from a dream as the sun crept up over the horizon and spread golden light over the sea and across the sky. Raising his head from the sandy blanket on which he had slept, he shook himself slightly and lifted his eyes upwards. In the Dark Forest, he wondered silently to himself, would the heavens light up like this? Would there be a sun? Or even a sky?

With a quiet sigh, the brown squirrel lay his face on his arm, shutting out the dawn. For a moment, only for a moment, he did not want to be reminded of everything that he was leaving behind; the warm sand and the cool sea, the sun shining in the endless blue sky, wind through his fur like a gentle caress, the peaceful still of night when the moon shone white and round attended by the merry twinkling stars. So often unthought of, like oft repeated ceremony, and yet so central to the rhythm of life. Even the simplest joy of living, breathing, pushing out the used air and drawing in the fresh, was to be left behind, given up. His father, Barkjon, and his friends, Brome and Martin and Rose and Grumm, they were part of that joy of living because with them was the love and the comradeship and the bonds that made life worth living for.

Worth dying for.

Felldoh raised his head and rose slowly. There was no getting away from life while he lived. In death, he prayed, the pain welling in his chest would ease.

He was only one squirrel, able to love and live only as one squirrel could. One life, against the many he could save, it was not hard to see what had to be done. That was his solace, the weighing of his soul against countless others, his happiness against all of theirs. The imagining of babes who would never lose the tenderness of their mothers, as he had. Friends that would never be separated. Blood that would never be shed. Innocent lives that would never be taken. The happy laughter of friends and family in the free sunlight.

Unbidden, Celandine's face appeared before his eyes and he remembered her, as she came sliding over the top of the dune, breathless and wide-eyed with terror. She came directly to him, without a second glance at Rowanoak and the Ballaw, falling into his arms and clinging to him. He had dropped his javelins without a thought, letting them fall with a clatter to the sand, and hugged her tightly to him. Felldoh felt no shame as he remembered how he trembled as she did.

If anything had happened to her. . . Rage and terror warred in his veins. He pushed her away, holding her arms at arms length as he scrutinized every inch of her body.

Celandine smiled weakly at him, the beginnings of tears glimmering in her eyes. "I'm alright Felldoh," she said softly. "You saved me."

"Celandine," Felldoh said, his voice thick with emotion. "If. . . I'm. . . I couldn't. . ." He let go of her and turned away, crossing his arms and hunching his shoulders

against the emotions fighting to his surface. Behind his back, Rowanoak and Ballaw exchanged a significant look and kept quiet.

Celandine hesitated for a moment, but then slid her arms around his middle, pressing gently against his scarred back. "What's wrong?" She asked quietly.

Felldoh raised his head and regarded the sky for a long moment. Then, he turned and took her in his arms. "If anything had happened to you," he said softly, holding

her against his chest," I don't know what. . . I don't want to know what would have happened to me."

Celandine buried her face in his neck and squeezed him. "It's alright," she told him. "I'm alright. I knew you'd come. I knew you would."

Without another word, Felldoh swept her up into his arms and nodded to Ballaw and Rowanoak. "My thanks," he said and they both bowed slightly, Ballaw smiling slightly and Rowanoak grave. "We'd better get back before Clogg finds his courage."

Now, as he stood with the light of the new day warm and lovely on his face, Felldoh knew that he would never see in this world, or the next, anything so beautiful, so breath-taking, so heart-stopping, as looking down into Celandine's face and seeing the secret ill-concealed in her shining eyes. It had been all everything he was to keep from crying out his answer to that secret.

Felldoh turned his back on the sun, bending to pick up the javelins beside his bed. The night before, he had selected the best he could find and honed them to a fine point.

All was ready, and he lifted his face again to the sky, savoring the morning breeze. His last hours, but also the last for Badrang.

He had said his good-bye to Celandine the night before. He knew that he would not be able to bear the sight her face this morning. As he had carried her back from Marshank, he had tried so hard to remember every injustice Badrang had inflicted. All the death and the pain and the blood, to again wake the anger and the resolve to see the Tyrant dead. _As many as fate decrees, myself included. . . _Felldoh wanted to breathe free, and know that all were safe from the Tyrant, but must of all, he wanted Celandine. Wanted her beside him in the day and in the night, in pain and sorrow, in happiness and joy. Wanted to wake each morning to find her in his arms, and fall asleep each night to her breathing.

Felldoh laughed mirthlessly as he checked his javelins. He could not decide whether to curse Fate for bring Celandine into his life so late, or bless Fate for the same reason.

She had not known last night, when he took her by the paw and led her away from camp, that this was the last time she would look upon him alive. He had taken her to the cliffs, where they could watch the stars dancing on the ocean waves.

Celandine stared wide-eyed with child like wonder at the beauty of the sea and sky. Felldoh had eyes only for her. Stars, sun, and moon were not so radiantly beautiful as she.

"Celandine," he said quietly, circling her waist with one arm.

She looked up at him. Surprise flickered across her features first as he gently inclined his head over hers. Then, as she closed her eyes to welcome his kiss, joy blossomed on her face like flowers greeting the snow after winters cruel grip was passed. Felldoh had not shut his eyes as his lips caressed hers; he could not bear for even a moment to take his eyes from her face.

He took her back to camp, laying her in her bed and tucking her in. She smiled at him as she nestled into her blankets, warm and secure.

"Good-night," she whispered, smiling," my big strong Felldoh."

"Good-night Celandine," he said quietly, brushing her forehead with his lips," my love forever."

For Celandine, Felldoh told himself as he turned from her and walked away into the night, for Celandine. For her and her children.

The javelins he slung over his shoulder as he pushed Celandine firmly from his mind. He had shed his tears for her in the night, when no one could see or guess his plans. He had wept for the sunsets and stars they would never watch together, for the cold winter nights curled up together beneath warm covers and the lazy summer days spent napping in the sun that they would never spend together, for all the times that they would never kiss, all the times they would lay and love together, and for all the kits and grandkits that they would never have.

The future, he thought, laughing quietly at the irony as he slipped quietly away from camp, was behind him and his destiny lay before him. Perhaps Martin would have guessed what was on his mind, but Felldoh did not even know if his friend lived. As it was, Felldoh believed that no one saw him as he slipped away from camp and down the cliffs, nor that there was the faintest inkling that the strong, quiet squirrel would attempt something so rash

_Cut off the head of the serpent, and the rest would die_.

"Badrang," Felldoh murmured as he strode boldly across the sand. Ahead, Marshank rose against the blue sky, and he could feel his warrior blood begin to boil. The fur on the back of his neck bristled, and his grip tightened on the javelins. "I hope you enjoyed the sunrise, Tyrant," he spat, glaring with potent hatred at the fortress from where, he could now see, his approach was being noted," 'cause it's the last your double-cursed eyes will ever see."

Felldoh threw his pack of javelins to the ground, a safe difference from Marshank, and snatched up one. He drew his arm back and let it fly at one of the vermin standing over the gate with a mighty howl.

"_Fur and Freedom! BBAADDDRRANNGGG!!!" _

The tyrant was not long in appearing, summoned by unnerved soldiers. He swaggered onto the battlements, sneering at Felldoh.

"What do you want, Squirrel!?" He called mockingly, paws cupped to his mouth.

Felldoh snarled at him, and then raised his voice in reply. "I want a fight! You against me, unless you're more of a coward then even I think!!!"

Badrang laughed, and Felldoh's knuckles turned white as he ground his teeth in rage. "I've been fighting since you were a suckling babe clinging to your mother's brush. How do I know you don't have some of my other escaped slaves waiting to ambush me?"

"I don't need anyone else," Felldoh's reply was confident.

Badrang's lip curled in a sneer. "Bit cocky aren't we? Surrender and I'll let you be my slave again."

"You'll bend no more rods over my or any other creature's back," Felldoh called back, testing the point of his javelin, his mouth set with determination. "You're bound for Hell's Teeth, coward!"

Badrang ground his teeth and started to turn from the wall. A rat caught his arm. "Don't go, he's mad that one."

The Tyrant's growl sent the vermin scurrying. "No beast calls Badrang a coward and lives!" He spun back to wall, fastening his eyes on the squirrel standing cool and confident on the stands. "I'm coming out squirrel!"

"Aye, I'll be waiting."

A surge of adrenaline flooded Felldoh's veins as he watched the gates of Marshank, the same gates that had held him captive for years, creak open and the arrogant figure of Badrang appear. Inspite of himself, Felldoh could not stop the grim smile from spreading across his face.

"Last chance, Squirrel," Badrang said, smiling as he stopped a few paces from Felldoh and drew his sword. The sword that rightfully belonged to Martin, Felldoh noted. "I'll let you serve me again, you look strong enough. Just a beating and then back to your duties."

Felldoh laughed. "Save your breath, Badrang. You haven't got many left."

Badrang snarled and leapt at him, bringing in the sword fast and spinning.

Felldoh ducked the blow, giving Badrang a smart rap on the knuckles as he sprang away. The Tyrant turned the blade to follow him, succeeding only in clipping Felldoh's arm. Felldoh rapped him again; ducking and weaving away as the rat tried unsuccessfully to keep up.

"Face me," Badrang hissed, whirling as he tried to follow Felldoh's movements. "Coward."

Felldoh laughed, dodging beneath the blade and kicking the Tyrant's paws out from underneath him. "My name is Felldoh," he said, standing and waiting as the rat scrambled to his paws," remember that name Badrang, it will be last you hear."

"You can't beat me," Badrang panted, slashing at him. Felldoh laughed again, almost lazily weaving around the blade to touch the point of the javelin to Badrang's throat and then skipping back before the rat could touch him.

"I'll see you dead," the squirrel said, his eyes flaming. "You've taken everything away from me, now Fate has decreed that I am to take everything away from you."

Badrang hesitated for a moment, noting the fires in the squirrel's eyes. He jumped forward with a swipe at Felldoh, causing the squirrel to retreat slightly, and then turned tail quickly towards Marshank.

"No you don't," Badrang heard Felldoh whisper in his ear, and then he was thrown to ground. He tried to scramble upright, holding his sword up to fend off his opponent, only to have it wrenched from his paw.

Felldoh brought the Javelin down onto Badrang's back with all his strength, and was rewarded with a howl. "Do you like this!?" The squirrel roared, laughing madly. "How does it feel to be beaten like a slave!?" Badrang tried to roll away, tried to fend him off, but to no avail.

This is the end, Felldoh thought exultantly, the Tyrant's cries blending together incoherently in his ears.

"Your tyranny over these shores are ended!" He cried, laughing louder as his strokes drew blood and Badrang's screams rose in pitch.

He was lost in battle rage and did not understand the word Badrang was screaming. He did not see the Tyrant's beasts until an arrow sprouted from his shoulder. Felldoh stumbled back a pace as the bruised and bleeding rat was pulled from him, gasping painful for breath.

Felldoh howled and redoubled his efforts as he saw that his enemy was escaping. He broke his javelin over the head of a ferret, who fell to the sand not to rise again, and laid about him, laughing and roaring wildly.

This is the end, he thought, numbly through the haze blood and pain and rage. His arms moved mechanically, . Badrang still lives, but I've hurt him bad and Martin will finish the job. He's a true warrior.

A smile spread across Felldoh's face as he fell weakly to his knees in the bloody sand. The horde beasts, fewer in number now, drew back watching cautiously.

Celandine, Felldoh thought as he watched the sun in the blue sky growing dark in his eyes. Celandine. . . For one more moment with you, I would live through a hundred lives of slavery. Celan. . .

He almost thought he could hear her, screaming his name, as the darkness took him.

"FELLDOH!!!"


	2. Love's Philosophy

****

Disclaimer: I do not own this poem either.__

The fountains mingle with the river

The rivers with the Ocean,

The winds of Heaven mix forever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in this world is single;

All things by law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?

See the mountains kiss High Heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained it's brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?

-Percy Bysshe Shelley

Chapter Two

__

Love's Philosophy

_"Still keepin' this Warrior of yours in check, I 'ope. . ." _Starwort had remarked with a wink to her as they stepped onto the raft. Now as Rose watched Martin standing grimly at the rail of the raft, looking down river towards Marshank, she smiled musingly.

My Warrior, she thought, laughing sadly. Even as all around their craft others were joining into, they were outnumbered for the battle ahead. Their small fleet sailed with stormy weather ahead. The Tyrant, Badrang, would not give up easily everything that he had worked long seasons for. The river gurgled happily to itself, and sunlight shone down through the trees, speckling the water with light. High above in the sky, whisps of white clouds drifted lazily along. It was a beautiful day, and it grated painfully with the knowing of what was to come.

The mouse maid rose restlessly, dusting off her skirt, and went to Martin.

"Felldoh," he said to her as she joined him at the raft's edge," he's a warrior. The Tyrant will curse the day he ever took him as a slave."

Rose placed a gentle paw on his shoulder, and Martin turned to meet her kind eyes. Rose noted the deep circles under his own eyes. "He'll be alright," she said firmly. "Martin, you need to rest. You will have much to do when we reach Marshank." With her other paw, she gently brushed a brown

"Rose," Martin said with a sigh, covering her paw on his shoulder with his own," Boldred counciled me to accept fate and I understand that what is done is done, but still. . . If we're too late for Felldoh already, and maybe for Brome too. . ."

"We've done everything we could," Rose said. "You've done everything you could. If Felldoh is a warrior as you are a warrior, we won't be too late."

Starwort called out for all paws to hold tight as his wife Marigold joined him at the tiller. "Ready, me love?" She asked him, a roughish glint in her eye.

The otter chieftain made an elegant bow. "Always my darlin'. Rough waters ahead mateys!"

Martin put his arm firmly around Rose's waist. "How'd I explain to your father if you went overboard," he explained, sheepishly.

Rose laughed, slidding her arms around his neck and held tight. "Just don't let go of me," she said, tightening her grip as she looked towards the wicked white water ahead.

"Never."

Rose looked back to Martin. He watched her, looked at her, with that grim iron determination of late reserved for the overthrow of Badrang. A rope of rigging fastened to the rail wound about his paw, he stood solid as a rock as they launched into the rapids.

Marigold and Starwort whooped together as they guided the craft haphazardly down the white water, and all around from their raft and the others of their fleets came shrieks and wild yells, but Rose wasn't listening. She didn't watch the water either, spinning and crashing about rocks and hissing at their log raft, or the bank speeding by. Her heart was indeed in her throat, and butterflies were waging war in her stomach, but not for the danger their small fleet was in. Martin's arm was firm about her waist, even as the raft shuddered when they struck a rock.

"DOWN WEEEEE GOOO!!!" Starwort and Marigold roared together, and the raft landed hard with a mighty splash onto calm water.

Rose might have fallen, had not Martin had her so firmly. She laughed, a little breathlessly. "You may let go now, Warrior," she said, smiling. Behind them as the otter crew sailed them further downstream, two boats collided and overturned in midair.

Martin blinked, and then slowly let her go. Rose turned to Marigold, who's mate had her about the waist whilst they smiled at each other. "Oh you were so skillful," she took their paws and smiled in delight at them. "The way you took command and knew just what to do, steering this great boat right the way down those dangerous rapids. Only two creatures would know how to navigate that terrible drop in safety."

"Well, thankee now, pretty one," Marigold said gravely as she bobbed a curtsy to Rose. "That's the first time we've ever been down those rapids."

Nearby, Grumm feel over with a thud. Starwort roared with laughter and went to assist Pallum helping the mole up.

"Oh dear," Marigold murmured as she went to her mate's side.

Rose turned to Martin. "Who would have guess," she began, and stopped. He was looking at her with that grim determined look, but his eyes shone softly. The mouse maid blushed and looked away. "Martin, son of Luke, don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Martin asked quietly, his eyes compelling her to meet them.

"Like that," Rose said softly. "Like when you talk about slaying Badrang. You look so determined, as if your mind is set on one thing."

"Rose," Martin said, taking one of her paws. "I am determined to see Badrang and Marshank and all they stand for fall but. . ." For a moment as he spoke of Badrang and his fortress, Martin's eyes glinted like stone, but as he looked back to Roes, all the fire seemed to go out. No, not out, but softer and brighter, like starlight reflected in the depths still waters.

"Stop," Rose whispered. She tried to smile, but it was tremulous at best. "Please, you're making my legs weak."

Martin looked down for a moment, and then took her other paw in his other. He faced her squarely, bringing his head up to look her directly in the eyes. "Rose, what would I do without you?" He asked her, his voice and face troubled, torn. "What would I do? Before you came I. . . I was a beast beneath Badrang's lash."

"No," Rose said, shaking her head violently. "You've always had the heart of a warrior, noble and proud and yearning for freedom. Slavery to another creature, and the treatment of those around you, you could not have endured it passively. I only helped you escape, and Grumm did the digging."

"Pretty one," Martin murmured, brushing her words aside. "You should have stayed in Noonvale, Laterose. War will only singe your lovely petals, and that would be the greatest wrong. Rose. . ."

"I'll be fine Martin," she said gently, squeezing his paws. A single shining tear gathered in the corner of her eye, and she blinked it away quickly.

"Rose," Martin said again, releasing her paws to put his own around her waist and pull her close. "You've opened my life to more then just vengeance and battle. Life is beautiful now. Your wisdom and gentle grace and. . . And," he paused, looking away, seemingly lost for words.

The mousemaid's heart constricted in her chest, and her head felt as though it might float right off her shoulders. She swallowed quickly, to clear her throat. "Martin," she squeaked, and then began to cough.

"Are you alright?" Martin asked, his face showing his concern as he ducked his head to look at her.

"No," Rose choked, holding tight to Martin to keep standing. "No, I'm not alright and I don't plan on being alright," she frowned at Martin between coughs. "What are you saying, Martin?"

The warrior mouse hesitated. "Rose. . ."

"I love you," she whispered, her eyes wide and helpless as she looked up at him. "Martin, I love you."

"Rose. . ." He began.

"Hush," she said, laying a paw ontop of his lips, smiling tremulously. "You've spoken, now I will. You're brave Martin, and strong, but you are interested in the plight of others. You are good, so good, and. . . And I love you for everything you've done and will do, and for everything you won't do.

"Noonvale," she turned for a moment, to look wistfully towards her home," is the most beautiful place but. . . But when I came home, with you, it had never been more beautiful in my eyes. The sun shines so much brighter and the leaves are greener and the water is wetter and the air is fresher and," she looked up into his eyes," I've never been more myself then now."

Tears flowed freely down Martin's face as he caressed tenderly Rose's cheek. "Badrang could never enslave me again. Since I've met you, I am free forever."

"Martin," she whispered, reaching up to lace her arms around his neck," you've been freed, and I've become a slave."

Martin laughed softly. "Pretty one, my Rose, there is no freedom like this slavery."

She reached up. He bent down.

And they kissed gently, sweetly, in the late afternoon sunlight.

****

Authoress's Note: Awww, it's so sweet. I'm trying to not be too cliched, but, alas, oh well. Erm, little messy? Yeah, shall fix it later. Sry bout the long wait, ive been too depressed to right depressing stuff lately;) it's sooo sad! In case you can't tell, I did read the book again, or parts of it. See what I do for you people! ::sniff::

Stoat. . . Right. . . Boy do I feel sheepish. . .

So everybody loves Felldoh? Felldoh is without a doubt the greatest Redwall character. Ever. ::sob:: why'd he have to die!?!?

Go forth and write Felldoh fics:-D

****

Catty Engles: I do apparently. But actually, I am far far FAR more interested in the next chapter of Maid's of the Sea. Don't /make/ me sic my meatloaf on you. :) Stoat. . . Right. . . I knew that! Really! Come on, would I lie to you? Ok, don't answer that.

Lady Storm: Rose/Martin, special for you, cause I love you just so much.

Aralia: Yes, definetely. In fact, everybody should write them. There should be massive amouts of them. Funny though, I have a character named Aralia around here somewhere. . . Creepy

Avblu: They did, I am upset, but I shall fix it.

Kristie: I do write a lot of bible fics. Hehe

Kira of Tirmal: im taking your advice about the poem, because you seem like a very smart person. Thankee very kindly milady, ::curtsies::

Ssage: Hard to find indeed, alas!


	3. Aubade

**Author's Note: In case it is not clear, the titles of chapters are the titles of the poem. If the poem has no title, it's generally the first line or first couple words. Sorry for the long wait, college is crazy(and I don't have the book anymore :sob: I just couldn't take it.). For Lady Storm:) Enjoy**རྫ

_Stay, O Sweet, and do not rise_

_The light that shines comes from thine eyes_

_The day breaks not, it is my heart_

_Because that you and I must part_

_Stay or else my joys shall die_

_And perish in their infancy_

**Chapter Three**

**Aubade**

"FELLDOH!" Celandine could not stop the scream that burst from her mouth when she saw him fall. She clung, sobbing, to the side of the Rambeling Rosehip Player's cart as it bounced over the dunes towards retreating vermin and the still figure in the sand.

Ballaw shouted out orders, leaping from the cart as Rowanoak brought it to a skidding stop. "Archers! Three rows, fire 'n kneel! Kilgrew, use those slings! Gather up the arrows from the vermin!"

Celandine leapt from the cart before it had even stopped, stumbling in the hot sands. Tears flowing down her face, she crawled the final paces to where Felldoh lay.

"Felldoh," she choked, crouching over him. Her paw flew to his neck. "Felldoh?" Even as she felt a pulse flutter faintly against her paw, she saw the numerous wounds he had sustained, and all the blood seeping into the sands. "Brome!" She shrieked, trying helplessly to staunch the red flow. "Brome!"

"I'm here," the mouse healer said, dropping to his knees on the other side of Felldoh. Wordlessly, his eyes took in the damage and he began to draw bandages and medicines from his bag. "We'll have to get

the arrows out of him, and get him under shelter. Badrang will be back."

Barkjon appeared out of the chaos as the Fur and Freedom fighters set up their defenses against the vermin. "Does my son live?"

"Help Celandine hold him down," Brome said brusquely. "The blood is still flowing, his heart is still beating."

Barkjon knelt on Felldoh's legs, pressing down on his torso. Celandine braced herself, holding down his shoulders. Brome gripped the arrow in Felldoh's shoulder with a bandage, gritting his teeth.

"I'm sorry, matey," he said, and then drew the arrow out in one swift motion. The big squirrel jerked with a cry, his paws clenching into fists. "Hold on," Brome said, drawing a second out. Felldoh cried

out again, loudly. His eyes fluttering for a moment before they shut tight.

"Please hurry," Celandine begged, looking all around in a panic. "Please, we have to get back to camp!"

"It's too late," Barkjon said grimly. "We're closed off. They'll back us into the ocean."

The cart had already been tipped up, and the Fur and Freedom Fighters were firing around it. As Celandine looked up, one of the freed slaves screamed and fell to ground, an arrow through his heart. Felldoh, she thought morosely, why did you leave me? How could you?

"Pay attention!" Brome snapped. "His life is bleeding away." The pretty squirrelmaid turned back, gripping his arms and Brome pulled out the last arrow. "There," he said, drawing a needle out of his bag and threading it swiftly. "Hold him steady, just a little more."

Celandine turned her face away as Brome sewed the torn flesh back together, unable to bear the sight of Felldoh's blood. She saw Ballaw fling a javelin, and then a vermin fall. Underneath her paws, Felldoh jerked and she gasped at his weak cries of pain. An arrow thudded into the sand by the four of them. We're going to die, she thought numbly.

"It's alright now," Barkjon told her gently.

Celandine looked to Felldoh, lying helpless and in pain on the sand. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Will you, will you watch him, Barkjon? Stay with him?" She stood shakily, reaching for a sling discarded in the sand by her footpaws. "Call me," she said, biting her lip grimly," if anything changes with him." The older squirrel nodded, helping to move his son into shelter.

"Celandine," Brome began, reaching out a paw to the distraught squirrelmaid. "Go stay with Felldoh, we'll be alright. . ."

"He fought for me," she said, fitting a stone to the sting and beginning to whirl it determinedly over her head. "Now I'll fight for him."

The sun shone without mercy down on the ragged band of fighters as the day progressed slowly. Celandine ripped a strip of lacy flounce from her dress and used it to wipe the sand and sweat from her brow. Around her, stronger beasts kept up a tireless barrage of fire. Her arms ached from using her sling. Her left eye had swollen up, she had accidentally hit herself. She was not very good with the sling she knew, her stones missed more often then not, but she had brought down one sea-toughened rat as well as a weasel. She had abandoned her weapon after the weasel, instead scurrying about collecting stones and used arrows for the fighters with better aim.

"How are you holding up?" Ballaw asked her. He sat in the sand, missiles flying over head, while Brome bandaged his paw.

Celandine ducked her head like a startled bird as an arrow whistled over her head. "It's all my fault," she said and her shoulders slumped dejectedly. "I should have known that he was up to something last night." The lovely squirrelmaid covered her face, and her entire body shook as she began to cry. "He was saying good-bye, and I didn't even realize it!"

"There, there," Brome stood as Ballaw took over the bandaging. The mouse hugged Celandine, and she sobbed into his shoulder. "You couldn't have known. Felldoh has a big heart, but he can be kind of bull-headed sometimes. He's been a slave for a long time, and I don't think he's ever been like this about a maid before."

"He's going to die!" Celandine cried, and Brome winced as if struck. The squirrelmaid sniffled, rubbing her nose on Brome's shirt. "We're all going to die."

"Now see here miss," Rowanoak growled, turning from her post to frown at her, and Celandine quailed beneath her glare. "That's no way to be talking. Felldoh did what he had to do, and it was a noble thing. We've risked our lives to save him, and if we die, it will be for the sake of a friend."

"Celandine."

The squirrelmaid turned from Brome, her eyes widening when she saw that it was Barkjon. "What is it?" She gasped, grasping the elder squirrel's paws. "Is Felldoh, is he-"

"-he is awake," Barkjon interrupted gently and, although the fight grew worse by the minute all around, he smiled. A tired smile. "My son is very strong, these wounds would have killed a lesser beast, but the fight to keep his heart beating has sapped his strength." The greying squirrel squeezed Celandine's paws. "Will you go to him?" He pleaded, fatherly concern in face and voice. "He needs you."

"I. . ." Began Celandine, looking uncertainly at Ballaw and Rowanoak even as she trembled with the undeniable need to see Felldoh.

"Go," said Rowanoak, and the badgeress smiled as the young squirrelmaid whirled and flew away as if loosed from a cage.

Felldoh lay in the shelter and shade of the cart. His entire torso wrapped in bandages, as well as his head, he did not look well. His face had swollen heavily and his breathing remained shallow and labored. Celandine fell to her knees beside him, breath catching in her throat, and he opened his bleary eyes a crack.

"Cel," he whispered, trying and failing to raise a paw to her face.

"Felldoh," she cried softly. She took his paw and pressed it to her tear stained cheek. "Oh Felldoh, why did you leave?"

He drew a ragged breath, coughing weakly as he struggled to answer.

"Shh," Celandine said, and she stroked his aching face gently with her other paw. "It can wait." She pressed his paw to her heart, watching him with earnest and worried eyes.

Felldoh thought that his heart would break the way she looked at him. All the other pains which wracked his body, the torture of breathing and the pounding in his skull, felt insignificant beneath this greater pain. Love shone in her sweet face, but hurt as well, and pain and fear. She held his paw tightly, as if afraid he would slip away.

"Celandine," he began, faintly.

"Please," she begged him tearfully, squeezing his paws," please don't leave me again. Stay, stay with me Felldoh." She wanted to embrace him, he could see it in her eyes, and he wanted her in his arms.

"Cel," he said, and he managed to squeeze her paws gently," I won't leave you again. I promise." She collapsed next to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, though being careful of his great injuries. He had given Fate a chance to take his life in this war, and he still lived. He would not give Fate a second chance, Felldoh decided as he shut his eyes tiredly. Even if Badrang never fell, they would leave this place.

"I promise," he whispered, sighing gently in pleasure at the warmth of her body next to his and her gentle arms around his neck. Even his selfish choice could not weigh down his spirit. Celandine was all that mattered, was all that could matter. "I promise to leave this war behind, I've done all I can. We'll go away, far away. Somewhere vermin will never find us. We'll wed," she choked then, whispering his name and bathing his aching face in kisses," build a home, have some kits, and I'll never let any of this bloodshed and hurt near you or our family again"

"Oh Felldoh," she sniffed, gently nuzzling his nose," Felldoh, what if we don't make it out alive from here?"

"Then we'll die together," he told her firmly, although his very being repelled at the thought of any harm coming to her. "And we'll enter the Dark Forest together, where we'll never be parted again. Cel," he put his arms around her, though the effort made him dizzy with pain," Cel, I swear, I swear that I will never leave you again. I'll be by your side forever."

She nodded, sniffling, and curled up next to him as if to protect him. The sounds of battle raged around them, the war cries and the screams of the wounded and dying filled the air, but Celandine stayed where she lay. She felt Felldoh's heartbeat against her breast, and she knew that she could not leave him now.

We will die together, she thought, hugging him tight. Seasons, she begged, let it be with the same sword thrust. She could not bear to be even another moment without Felldoh, not ever.

"I love you," she whispered, burying her face in his neck. "I love you forever."

Felldoh echoed her, one paw wearily rubbing her back through her torn and stained dress. At once, his ears pricked up, and he let out a shallow gasp.

"What?" Celandine cried, looking up in fear. Was he leaving her? He had seemed to be out of danger. . .

"Listen," Felldoh said, and a tear of relief trickled from one eye. "Listen."

She did, and though she had to strain, she heard it. A warcry.

"MAARRRTTTIINNN!"

"We will live," he told her, tears streaming down his face and her smile brought a burst of warmth to his breast. "We'll live, Celandine, together."


	4. Huesca

**Authoress's Note: I don't own the poem, and don't ask what "Huesca" is, I don't know. Also, Felldoh is way, way OOC, so, um, yeah. Just, bear with me. **

_Heart of the heartless world,_

_Dear heart, the thought of you_

_Is the pain at my side;_

_The shadow that chills my view._

_The wind rises in the evening,_

_Reminds that autumn is near._

_I am afraid to lose you,_

_I am afraid of my fear._

_And if bad luck should lay my strength_

_Into the shallow grave,_

_Remember all the good you can;_

_Don't forget my love._

_-John Cornford_

**Chapter Four**

**Huesca**

Felldoh rested easily now in Celandine's arms. She had refused to allow anyone to move him, nearly hysterical that more harm come to him, and so a tent had been erected over the two. The pretty squirrel maid had brought blankets to cover and cushion him. He laid his head against her breast, and sighed softly with contentment as she gently stroked his face.

Martin, one protective arm about Rose, entered the tent to find the two squirrels simply staring in sleepy wonder at each other. The warrior mouse breathed a silent sigh of relief, and shared a smile with Rose, that his friend lived.

"Felldoh," he said, smiling slightly as the squirrel painfully tore his gaze away from Celandine," sorry to interrupt, it's good to see that you're still breathing. How are your wounds."

"I'll live," Felldoh said, his voice still ragged and tired. He looked back to Celandine as she sighed at his words. He smiled at her and laid his head wearily on her shoulder before looking back to the mice. "Unfortunately, Badrang still lives as well."

"We'll take him," Martin assured. "The army outside is enough to flatten the fortress to the ground. Don't worry," and his eyes sparked with anger," I wanted Badrang for myself anyway."

Felldoh did not miss the worried look that crossed Rose's face. "It will be alright, Rose," he told her. "Martin will do for Badrang."

"Yes," the mousemaid said, though she looked at Martin for a moment before turning back. "I hear that you nearly had him, if he weren't such a coward." Rose smiled at the squirrelmaid who looked so proud of her charge. "You must be Celandine, Brome told us how you helped save Felldoh's life."

"We can't thank you enough for saving our brave friend," Martin added.

Celandine crossed her arms across his chest and laid her cheek against the top of his head. "I can't thank your brother enough," she said to Rose, choking a little bit as she squeezed Felldoh gently. He murmured soothingly to her, laboriously raising one paw to cover hers on his chest. "Felldoh would have bled to death in the sand without him."

"I'll be alright," Felldoh told her with quiet firmness.

"You'll give me gray furs before my time," she said prissily. She flicked up her tail and eyed it ruefully.

"You will be just as beautiful with gray fur," he said. Rose smiled and squeezed Martin's arm as Celandine blushed.

"Are you well enough for a council of war?" Martin asked Felldoh.

"Yes," he said.

"No," said Celandine at the same moment, and glared at him when he frowned up at her. "You are not moving, Felldoh."

"We'll bring the others here," said Rose, sending Martin off to do just that with a smile and a lingering gaze. She turned after the tent flap fell close behind him. "You must be exhausted, both of you. Can I bring you anything? Grumm was cooking up some delicious fish stew when I left, and we have cherry cordial from Noonvale."

"Yes," said Celandine. She smiled with tired fondness at the mouse maid. "That would be wonderful." Rose nodded and left, wisely giving the two a little time to talk.

"I'm fine, Celandine," Felldoh said.

"I had to help your father hold you down while Brome pulled arrows out of you and stitched up you wounds," she told him flatly. "You are not alright. You are very, very hurt and Seasons be thanked that you're alright. Oh Felldoh," she sniffed, and there were sudden tears in her eyes," I thought you were dead. I thought we were all dead. I thought that I would never see you again. I was afraid, so afraid, that you-you'd never kiss me again."

He rested his head against her, willing her to be comforted. "But I'm alive," he told her softly. "You will see me, and if you like, I will kiss you again."

"Did you like kissing me?" She whispered, pulling the blankets up higher on his chest.

Felldoh felt his face growing hot, and found himself surprised that he had enough energy to blush. "Yes," he said gruffly. "I did."

"Did you mean it? Earlier?" Celandine asked. Her eyes were large and bright with hope as she looked down at him.

"What?"

Celandine swallowed. "About, about wedding me and-and kits?" Her voice barely above a whisper, she looked away from him.

Felldoh remembered saying that. He wished he could take her in his arms and hold her so safe and close that he would never see sadness in her eyes again. "Yes," he said, and his voice cracked. He swallowed in embarrassment, but felt warmth bloom in his chest when he saw Celandine's eyes spark with happiness. "If you'll have me. I. . . I'm sorry that I didn't exactly find a very romantic way to ask you."

"Oh Felldoh," she exclaimed, and hugged him so fiercely that he barely contained the gasp of pain. "Oh! I'm sorry!" She loosened her arms, tears springing to her eye. "Felldoh, forgive me."

"I'm alright," he managed a smile. Celandine smoothed his fur and fussed at his bandages. Satisfied that he was alright, she wrapped her arms around him again. "Just fine."

Pallum held back the tent flap for Rose as the mousemaid entered with a large bowl of steaming stew and a jug of cordial. Ballaw sniffed appreciatively and his long ears perked up.

"You haven't got another bowl of that lovely scoff, have you?"

"There's plenty more in the kettle outside, if you'd care to stir your lazy tail," Rowanoak growled. "Let the poor kits eat in peace."

"Thank you," Celandine murmured with a smile as she accepted the bowl from Rose.

"I can feed myself," Felldoh muttered.

"Hmph," the squirrelmaid said," you can barely lift your paw. You'll get it all down your front," she took a delicate bite for herself," and it's too delicious to waste."

"Don't fight it, mate," Martin whispered loudly out of the corner of his mouth," these maids can be awfully stubborn."

Felldoh rolled his eyes, but opened his mouth and allowed Celandine to feed him.

"I don't think you'll be taking part in the attack tomorrow." Barkjon patted his son's leg.

"It will be some days before you can even move," Brome said firmly as his friends eyes flashed. "I say you've done your part. If Badrang weren't a yellow-bellied coward, he'd be dead now. As is, he's in that fortress right now shaking in his boots."

"A scared tyrant is no tyrant." Again, Pallum pulled back the flap and Boldred carefully waddled in. Her enormous golden eyes transfixed Felldoh as she blinked slowly in the lantern light. "He will fall on the morrow, and no mistake."

After a moment, Felldoh looked away from her gaze and shut his eyes in defeat. As the rest of the council began to speak of how best to assault the fortress, Celandine set down the bowl and crossed her arms over his chest.

"Will you be alright?" She whispered.

"Yes." He settled his head back against her shoulder and smiled as she nuzzled him. "I wish I had the strength to fight. I'll feel foolish, resting safely apart from the battle while everyone else is risking their lives to do what I failed to."

"Hush," Celandine held a paw to his mouth. "You're being silly. No one could defeat an entire army by themselves. You did all that you could, and now you'll just have to stay here and let us do the rest."

Felldoh's eyes snapped open. "You're not going," he growled.

She squeezed him lightly in an attempt to soothe him. "I'd be worthless in a battle, but Brome may need help with the wounded."

"Celandine," and his voice was half a groan, and half a sob. Though the effort wrenched a low cry of pain from his throat, Felldoh turned and got an arm around her waist.

"Stop, lie still and rest," Celandine whispered frantically as he lay panting with pain and exertion against her shoulder. His arm tightened around her.

"Is he alright?" Rose knelt beside the two squirrels and rested a comforting paw on Celandine's shoulder.

The squirrelmaid sighed. "He's hurt, very hurt, and he still wants to fight."

"It is the warrior spirit," Rose said, and the two shared a knowing look.

"And he doesn't want me to go either. Even, if I only go to help with the wounded."

"Please," Felldoh's tortured whisper broke in between them. His eyes squeezed tightly shut, he could not stop the tears from welling from them. "Please, please don't go. Seasons, if I lost you, after all this. . ."

"Hush," Celandine bent and laid a line of gentle kisses along his brow.

"Don't go, Cel. I want to protect you," and though it hurt him more than bodily wounds, he continued," and I can't right now."

Rose squeezed the squirrelmaid's shoulder. "I do not think there will be any wounded tomorrow who are in more danger than Felldoh. Brome told Martin and I that any other beast would have died from such a beating."

"Aye," Brome said as he knelt beside his sister. "No one needs you more than Felldoh."

Celandine kept quiet as the healer checked Felldoh's bandages and reapplied dressings. She stroked his ears absently and a thoughtful frown creased her pretty face. "I only want to be as brave as you," she said at last. Felldoh shivered with silent pain as Brome carefully rewrapped his wounds. Celandine's arms tightened around him. "Oh Felldoh, of course I'll stay with you. Anything you want, if it will make you feel better."

"I'm sorry," he said as he shifted slightly to settle himself. He lifted his face to nuzzle her neck, and he could not help but smile as she sighed happily. The half-smile which curved her mouth and the tenderness shining in her warm eyes eased his breathing and dulled the pain wracking his body. He blinked sleepily. "Cel, I'm selfish, and a coward for both of us."

"No, Felldoh." Martin knelt to take his friend's paw. Behind him, the rest of the council spoke quietly as they left the tent. "No, you're the bravest beast I know, and you'll be needed when Marshank falls."

"Matey," Brome cut in," you aren't out of danger yet. Celandine will need to keep a close watch on you for the next few days."

Martin nodded. "If you tried to move, you'd only be finishing Badrang's work for him."

Felldoh squeezed his paw. "Thank you, warrior." He grimaced a sad imitation of a smile. "I'll let you do for the tyrant. I know you'll take back your father's sword."

"Do you need anything?" Rose asked.

Celandine shook her head. "No," she caught the mousemaid's paw. "Please, Rose, be safe. I'd say that your warrior needs you as much as mine needs me."

"I will be fine," Rose smiled and hugged the squirrelmaid briefly before rising. "We will see you tomorrow after the battle. Perhaps if Felldoh rests, he will be well enough for a little celebration."

Martin waited for her by the tent flap. Rose slipped her paw into his and pulled him outside.

"You should sleep," they heard Celandine say to her charge.

"I think," Felldoh returned," that you should kiss me first. I think it will help me sleep better."

Rose smiled at Celandine's soft laugh. "They are sweet," she said as they moved away.

"I'm thankful that he's alive," Martin murmured. "It's my fault, for being away so long. If Ballaw and Rowanoak had been much longer in getting to him, or if there wasn't Celandine to keep him here-"

"Martin," Rose stopped and turned to face him," Felldoh knew what he was doing when he chose to attack Marshank on his own. Thank the Seasons that he's even alive, and now you are here to finish what he started." She dropped her eyes from his. Cautiously, she reached out and took his other paw in hers. "Martin, tomorrow, you will be careful?"

"Badrang must fall."

"I know, but. . . Won't you come back to me?"

"I would like to." Martin watched tears gather in Rose's eyes and then, without a word, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. Her arms found their way around him and she buried her face in his neck. They stood motionless under the starlight and the cool breeze off the ocean washed over them. At length, Martin cleared his throat. "I'm not going alone like Felldoh. I have allies, and I have an important reason to come back."

Rose took a deep breath. "I want to go with you."

"You are not a warrior."

"I know but, but if anything happens to you. . ."

He shook his head. "Rose, I can't say what my Fate is, but only death will keep me from coming back. I hold your happiness above my own, and I'll fight like ten Felldohs to come back." Rose smiled tremulously as he kissed her soft ears. "Brome will need you with the wounded. Your gentle paws will bring more comfort than the best herbs."

She nodded slowly. "Yes, Martin." She looked up at him, and a real smile spread across her face. "I think you need sleep. You have a war to win tomorrow."

Martin chuckled. "Yes Rose, but only if you will tuck me in before you go." They laughed together. Gradually, their mouths came closer and closer together. "Promise me," Martin murmured, his lips just above hers," that you will stay away from the battle tomorrow."

"I promise," Rose replied, and then closed the distance between them.

**I have issues with updating, but reviews are nice:)**


	5. Mirage

**Authoress' Note: It lives! Hurray! This is, of course, for all you wonderful, wonderful, lovely, lovely, people who have reviewed and / or PMed me asking for a continuation. I would mention you all by name, but I'm afraid I would miss someone important. (But thanks to tina, anyway, whose review spurred this update.) I really have read every review and PM, and would not be continuing without them.**

**(You are all /very/ important, and I thank you from the very bottom of my heart. I will try VERY hard not to let another, um, two? years go past without another update.)**

**Logistics: It has been a very long time since I read Martin the Warrior(and about two years since I wrote anything on this particular story), so if things are, you know, not exactly like they're supposed to be, feel free to let me know. I might even fix it. Also, I'm not certain how many years really passed between the end of Martin the Warrior and the end of Mossflower. Forgive, forgive. Pretty much everyone is OOC at this point. (So much angst.)**

_The hope I dreamed of was a dream,_

_Was but a dream; and now I wake,_

_Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old,_

_For a dream's sake_

_Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart;_

_My silent heart, lie still and break:_

_Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed_

_For a dream's sake_

_-Christina Rossetti_

**Chapter Five**

**Mirage**

_**five years later**_

Morning in Noonvale.

Brome woke before the sun. He lay in the cool dark of his home, wondering what had disturbed his sleep. Beside him, Kastern slept soundly, her breathing deep and even in the quiet. From the next room, he heard the soft snoring of their pup, Martin. All was right in the house, and no harsh sounds penetrated from outside.

Blinking sleepily, Brome yawned and tugged Kastern into his arms. She rolled willingly to him and, nuzzling her way into his shoulder, slipped back into sleep without truly waking. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off again, but his mind refused to quiet. Even with his warm wife curled up against him, it was only a short while before restlessness drove him from the bed.

Kastern protested as he pulled away. "Brome?" She murmured, opening her eyes to squint at him. "Brome? Is something wrong?"

"I'm just a little antsy," he told her, and smiled fondly at her dropping eyelids and enormous yawn. "Go back to sleep, Kast."

"You sure?" She asked. "I know today will be hard for all of us."

"Today-" Brome began, and then remembered. His heart sank. _Of course, today._ "Yes, it will be hard, but harder for some of us."

Kastern nodded, yawning again. "I really should get up, too." She started to, but laughed as Brome encircled her waist with his arms and bore her back down to the bed with him.

"How about we just stay here all day?" He whispered in his wife's ear as she buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around him. "I'll get Martin, and we'll keep him here with us. Lock the door? Pretend we're not home?"

She hummed, squeezing him tight. "Nothing would suit me better, love, but you know we can't."

Brome closed his eyes anyway. Kastern did not speak. She ran her claws slowly through his back fur, scratching in circles until she felt the tension there ease.

"It will be alright," she murmured, stretching up to briefly kiss his mouth. "It will be alright, and all over soon."

He sighed. "It's never over, Kast. Never. _He_ will never forgive himself, and my sister. . ." Kastern gasped softly as his arms tightened around her. Brome pulled her closer still, curling his body around hers. "But," he murmured, nuzzling her soft ears," if it were you gone, you who burned to death in that fortress, I can't say that I would act any different."

"I'm here," she told him firmly, pinching his shoulder in reproach," and here will I stay. You won't be getting rid of me." Earnest, she looked up to meet his eyes. "Take some comfort in that. Remember it- you have me, and we have a little pup. We have each other. Some of our friends don't have their loved ones, and today makes it all the more bitter for them."

"Thank the Seasons for my wise wife," Brome said. He smiled at her, though it took some effort.

"So listen to her," Kastern huffed, though not without a twinkle in her eye. "Go on and get dressed. Once Martin is up and fed, we'll come find you."

"Don't tary too long," Brome said. "I'll need you both today." He kissed his wife once more, and then allowed her to push him out of bed.

The early autumn morning smelled of changing leaves and the promise of frost. Brome pulled the cottage door shut behind him and stood for a moment to drink in the crisp sunrise. Closing his eyes, he let the gentle rays warm him and gathered the peaceful moment around him as a shield against what the day would bring.

To his right, from the next lane over of homes, a door slammed. The crash reverberated through the forest surrounding Noonvale, startling birds into flight.

Calm now broken by the frightened squawks, Brome opened his eyes and turned to wait for Felldoh to appear.

"You're gonna break that door again, matey," he said as the squirrel stumped into view around the row of cottages.

Felldoh started a little, but paused only long enough to shoot Brome a glare before continuing up the path towards the forest. With a sigh, the mouse followed a few steps behind.

Most of the former Marshank slaves had long since regained their health. Their fur had grown in full and thick, and much needed flesh had padded out thin frames. Only Felldoh, the worst injured of the survivors, had failed to get better.

It had not been for lack of trying on Celandine's part. She spent many hours with the best bakers and cooks in the village, learning to make the most tantalizing treats and the most nourishing stews. Nothing tempted Felldoh, no matter how hard and long Celandine had slaved over the food, and Kastern often found her sobbing over another untouched supper.

Had he eaten better, let his wife fuss over him and rested in the peace of Noonvale, perhaps Felldoh would have recovered more fully from Badrang's ambush. As it was, his fur grew sparsely on his frame, which often slipped from merely gaunt to nearly skeletal, and many of his injuries had healed wrong. Badly broken bones, not given the time and rest and nourishment necessary to mend, ached so fiercely in cold and before storms that such times found him curled in a ball, teeth clenched against the pain as tears squeezed from his eyes. He walked with a slight stoop and a limp which became more pronounced when he was in a temper.

_Have to do everything the hard way, _Brome growled silently. _Had to blame yourself for everything. Couldn't just lie still and let Cel comfort you, had to go off in the rain when you shouldn't have even been moving. The infection nearly finished Badrang's work for him! Seasons! Your wife wept herself nearly blind, and did you raise a paw to touch her shoulder? Did you even look in her direction?_

The path out of Noonvale twisted among the trees until it came to a small clearing by a pond. Here, Brome found Felldoh seated on a rock, staring into the clear water. The mouse paused for a moment, considering his plan of attack.

"Celandine's crying her eyes out right now," he said, hoping that the blunt truth would motivate Felldoh now as it had failed to motivate him a hundred times before. "You know that, right?"

Felldoh closed his eyes, mouth tightening. "It's none of your business, Brome. Leave off."

Brome shrugged, taking a seat on a log across from his friend. "Just reminding you that your wife is the most miserable creature ever born, could fill an ocean with the tears she's shed over you, hardly ever smiles anymore, and that it's all your fault."

"I'm a terrible husband," Felldoh snapped, half-rising before his weak leg buckled and he sat back down with a thud. Biting his lip fiercely to keep in his gasp, he pressed both paws to his burning thigh. He kept his eyes shut tight and sat still until the pain eased.

Brome kept still and quiet as well, waiting.

At last, Felldoh sighed and opened his eyes. "I'm a terrible husband," he said, voice still gruff, though his eyes did not spark with anger. "Seasons, I know it. You know it. The entire village knows it, and Hellsgates take me, you, and them for all the good it does Cel."

"You can't blame her, Felldoh. She didn't keep you from the battle. There is no way in any world that you would have been able to get up, much less fight."

"I don't blame her," he said. Old pain had written itself across his face and he would not meet Brome's eyes. "Seasons, she saved my life, and I know, I know that I would have died before crossing blades with any vermin. It's not her, it's not her at all. If I am angry with her. . . It's because she can't seem to see that I'm no good. She's still here, still with me, after what I did, what I put her through." He slumped over, face in his paws.

Brome kept still, waiting for him to speak again. His heart beat a little quicker as the silence stretched.

Felldoh had become something of a mute in the years since Marshank, growling rather than speaking, and yelling rather than talking. Maybe, if anything good could come of this day, the fifth memorial of that terrible night, maybe it could come here.

"I yelled at her," Felldoh admitted softly, and he did not lift his head. "I said- horrible things, things that I didn't mean. Things I could never, never mean. . . And she just stood there, watching me with those beautiful eyes overflowing with tears, shaking with hurt. . . And she wouldn't argue with me. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't try to say anything to hurt me back. All she did was stand there and tell me over, and over, and over again with her face and her eyes that she loves me."

"So here's what we should do," Brome said, leaning forward, heart leaping with hope as he saw tears, real tears, glistening on Felldoh's cheeks. "We get up and go back to your house. I'll shoo out all the ladies who have rallied to Celandine's side, and we all leave you two alone.

"Now," Brome got up, rubbing his paws together as he warmed to his own idea," you sit beside her on the bed and rub her back. You tell her that you're sorry, very, very, very sorry, and that she didn't deserve it from you. She keeps crying, but maybe she sneaks a look up at you. So, you lean down, whisper in her ear that you love her, love her more than sunrises and breathing and so on and so forth. It might take a little while, and some nice words, but when she finally smiles, _then_ you kiss her."

"It's not that simple," Felldoh said. His paws dropped to his knees and his face had gone hard again.

"It _is_ that simple," Brome said, nearly snarling. "It is _just_ that simple."

But the moment had passed and ice had closed back over Felldoh's heart. Brome felt it as he saw the squirrel's eyes dull. An even greater anger gripped the mouse, and he stood from the log so abruptly that his body protested the violent movement.

"Fine," he gritted, not trusting himself to look at Felldoh. "You sit here, stew in your own selfish self-pity, and let Cel drown in her tears. If you have a shred of compassion or decency left in you, you would rip out her heart with your own paws rather than making her suffer this lingering death." With that, he stormed from the clearing and left Felldoh alone with his thoughts.

* * *

This day, more than any other, Rose wanted to pull the covers over her head and remain in the silent darkness of her home. She wanted to curl up, tighter and tighter in on herself, and cry until she could not breath. She wanted to weep until the unfeeling oblivion of sleep took her.

"But not today," she whispered to herself, and then burrowed deeper in her bed anyway. Scrunching her eyes shut, clamping paws over her ears, she bit her lip until it bled and wished that she could be anywhere but where she was.

Her small hut sat near the middle of Noonvale, only a stone's throw from her parent's lodge and her brother's home. It had a small bed, a small kitchen with a fireplace and a table, and a small entry with a few chairs. No pictures or woven tapestries hung on its simple walls, though her mother and other ladies had offered. Something colorful, cheerful, they said, would make her feel better. Rose would nod politely, thanked them for their gifts, and given them back.

Anything that suggested cheer or happiness was a lie that the mousemaid could not stomach. Village feasts, especially weddings, raised bile in her throat along with swift, boiling anger which swiftly turned to torrents of tears.

_Between Celandine and I,_ she had once told Brome, _we could wash away the world_.

It was the thought of Celandine that finally forced Rose to throw back the drab grey blankets and sit up. She sat, staring at the wall, and wondered what she had done that Fate had degreed her sufferings to be so great. _Not only me_, she thought,_ but poor, poor Cel._

She had, in her very blackest moments at night when the entire empty universe pressed down over her bed, cursed Felldoh's foolish pride. He had told them, after, what had happened. How he could have killed Badrang, and how he had chosen instead to humiliate the tyrant, dragging out the fight until he could be rescued.

That was the sin for which Felldoh could not forgive himself. The reason he could not be a fit husband or a fit friend. Why he had stumbled around Noonvale for the past five years more like a corpse than a breathing, living body.

"Five years," Rose said aloud. The silence swallowed her words, and she felt nothing more than a dull pang in her heart. How strange that here, where and when she wanted to cry and weep and wail, the tears would not come. The streaming eyes that so shamed her past her door dried within the confining walls of her home.

_No_, she thought, anger warming her briefly, _**not**__ my home. _Momentary pique carried her out of bed and to the chest where she kept her few dresses. Plain brown was all she could stand to wear, and she was halfway into one before the warmth of feeling faded and left her standing, half-dressed and alone again in the quiet darkness.

_I don't have a home_, Rose thought, staring down at the dress and willing herself to pick it up and put it on. _I will never have a home. This is nothing but dust and ashes. Ashes._

She had stayed behind, just as Martin had requested, and assisted Brome with the injured. Grog from the searat's ship had caught fire, exploding with terrible force, and rapidly consumed the entire fort in flames. Helpless, restrained by Rowakoak, she watched the fort burn to the ground.

They had combed through the remains of the fort and the charred bodies, still sizzling in the light rain, hoping against hope. The search had yielded nothing.

Marshank was gone. Badrang was dead.

And Martin had never returned.

Rose paused, paws on her dress buttons, but even his name stirred nothing in her.

Suddenly, tears filled her eyes as her heart rebelled against the numbness. "Martin," she said, aloud this time, and then began to sob.

_Gone_, whispered the silence as she sunk to her knees and laid her forehead on the hard ground. _Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone._

_Gone._

_Gone away._

_Gone __**forever.**_

Paws clutching at her chest, Rose tried to stem the rivers flowing down her cheeks. Too late, she remembered how much it hurt to _feel_ this again. Five years, three years, one year, three months, a few weeks, two days, ten minutes, the time did not matter.

Again and again and again, she was brought back to that moment, the moment when her time stopped, when Ballaw had taken her paws in his, looked into her eyes, and told her softly that Martin would have come back by now if he had escaped.

Her throat still ached when she remembered the scream she had been unable to keep in.

_I'm still screaming,_ she wiped her eyes, climbing to unsteady feet. _I can't move past that moment. I remember every strand of fur on Ballaw's face. I remember the tilt of his head and the angle of the sun above us. I live it every day, every second. _As if, if she lived it enough, she could change it.

_But I can't change it. He is gone. He really is not coming back_.

That almost started the tears again. Rose shook her head fiercely and finished buttoning herself up. Ballaw, Rowanoak and the Rambling Rosehip Players had arrived the night before, and their appearance had given Rose an idea, and the first hope ray of hope to pierce her darkness in a long, long time.

_Five years, even_, she thought, finding her slippers. It had been Grumm, who had taken gone along with the Players for their last tour, which had made her think.

"Good-bye, house," she said to the stillness as she slipped out the door. "Thank you for what peace you could offer."

Rose kept to herself as she hurried through Noonvale. Many she saw gave her tremulous smiles or pitying glances. Some turned towards her, extending a paw or opening a mouth to speak. Rose kept on walking, looking neither right nor left.

She was going to escape this place that was dead with memories and pity. No one could stop her. If they tried, she would show them the strength of her determination.

Ballaw and Rowanoak stood with Brome in front of his house. From their grim, drawn faces, Rose could only suspect that they were speaking of her, or else Felldoh and Celandine.

_Maybe,_ she thought silently to the absent squirrelmaid, _maybe I can free us both._

The three looked up as she approached, but Rose did not give them a moment to speak.

"You are leaving tomorrow," she said to Ballow, stopping before him. "Going to new places."

The hare blinked. "Yes," he said, eying her speculatively, seemingly encouraged by the spark in her eyes. "The poor folk throughout the forest have put up with us enough. We're headed to new territory. A place called Mossflower. It used to be controlled by a pack of wildcats but now-"

"I'm coming with you," said Rose.

**Phew.**

**As previously stated, I have such severe updating issues that I'm ashamed to even mention them. (You know how that is, don't you? Maybe we should start a support group.) I would love to hear anything you want to say about the story!**

**(Also: Aubade = poem about parting ; Huesca = City in Spain.)**


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